


Two Birds on a Wire, One Tries to Fly Away...

by Goldstone_Wolf



Series: The Story of How Phil Ended Up with Many, Many Children…Even Though Only One of Them is Actually “His” [4]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: "see kids this is why we watch where we're going", (Respawn is Enabled), (during a panic attack but still), (hugs), AU of an AU, Anxiety Attacks, Arrows, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Child Injury, Concussions, Dadza, Discussions of death, Due to injury, Falling Off Cliffs, Fire, Food mentions, Freezing to death, Frostbite, Gen, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Hypoglycemia, Hypothermia, I'm tagging it anyways, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Major Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Literal Cliffhangers, Major Character Injury, Medbays, Medical Inaccuracies, More TBA Upon Request, No Beta, Oxygen Masks, Panic Attacks, Passing Out, Philza is Dadza, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Snowstorms, So...AU squared?, Sort of Suicidal Thoughts, Starvation, Suffocation Mentions, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Uhhh...., Unconsciousness, Whump, arrow wounds, basically Dream considers killing himself to get out of a bad situation, but he doesn't go through with it and it's not due to depression or mental health, cliffs, doing something incredibly stupid, haha puns, hand holding, no pog this time because i couldn't figure it out and i am dog tired, no punz though sorry, strays, title from a regina spektor song, to quote one of Skyfall's bookmarks, tws for:, we die like i do playing easy mode minecraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28355589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf
Summary: After a hard night of filming for the SMP series, Tommy runs off and Dream follows. Since it’s dark, of course, the kid doesn’t see what’s in front of him…but Dream knows what it is.Or, the story of how Tommy and Dream ended up nearly dying in a ravine on a snowy winter night.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: The Story of How Phil Ended Up with Many, Many Children…Even Though Only One of Them is Actually “His” [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064996
Comments: 9
Kudos: 478





	Two Birds on a Wire, One Tries to Fly Away...

**Author's Note:**

> TWs in tags. Title from the Regina Spektor song because come on, it’s a classic. Also, you can consider this a spiritual successor to “Skyfall”. Additionally, this is not a true PogAU because it’s in the Minecraft universe. Because I had this idea but I didn’t want to have it happened in the “true” AU because Minecraft physics are fun, I couldn’t think up a reason why they’d be in this situation, and I just really wanted to do whump without having to continue it in the series or mention it because this would be traumatic.  
> Anyways, I’m going to finish this fic before I get around to eating or continuing to edit some of my other books, so let’s jump into this!

Dream knew something was wrong when Tommy bolted.

He’d seen the kid go through some pretty tough scenes, but nothing like this. Nothing even _close_ to this. And now he was running, and Phil had shouted a warning. Before Dream could even think, he’d run after the kid. Of course he had. Whether Tommy liked it or not, the adults were responsible for him when he was on the server, and even if he could take care of himself there wasn’t any shame in needing help. But there were a few other factors playing into why Dream was the only one running.

There was a snowstorm going on.

If the others weren’t quick in getting the equipment inside, then stuff could get damaged. They’d have to refilm everything. People could get hurt if they were outside longer than they needed to be.

Tommy was a kid.

Sure, he was almost seventeen. He was almost old enough to be an adult. In a few places, he could be living on his own if he wanted to. But he wasn’t doing that yet and Dream should have realised that something was up. It was his responsibility to make sure that the well-being of the people on his server was…well, _well._ If they were hurting…that was on him. He was the admin, he needed to make sure he kept those—he needed to make sure he kept Tommy safe.

And, maybe most importantly, they were filming in a very _dangerous_ area.

It had been a few months. On another world, Dream and the Muffinteers (such a silly name but he loved it) had been practicing for Manhunt. He’d misstepped, dropped off the edge of a ravine. Of course, he’d been scouting the land for spots to film earlier in the week—and nearly done the exact same thing. The spot was close to the darn ravine—he should have put some warnings—

Up ahead, someone screamed.

“Tommy!” Sprinting, Dream skidded to a stop and immediately threw his whole body to the side. Sure, it nearly sent him off the edge of the ravine himself, but at least he didn’t crush Tommy’s fingers on accident. He straightened up. Everything was white, white, _white_ swirling in his eyes and clouding his vision and preventing him from seeing anything beyond the trees a couple yards away. _Not good, not good._ “Tommy, you alright?” He looked down at the young man where he was dangling from the ravine edge.

Huffing a laugh, Tommy forced out, “Sure, sure, just…just hanging in there, Dream.” He wrinkled his nose, face twisted in pain. Leaning over, Dream grabbed the back of his red and white shirt and dug his gloved fingers into the snow around them. “What are you doing?”

“Snow anchor. We have to—”

“Dream, behind you!” Dream whipped around right in time to hear the familiar _twang_ of a bowstring releasing. Ducking, he hauled Tommy up. Or…he tried to. He got him about halfway.

And then a few things happened at once.

For starters, something slammed into his lower back. Gasping, Dream jerked forwards. His balance was thrown, and he saw the dark abyss of the ravine right in front of him. Earlier, he’d glanced into the thing, decided it was too risky to try rappelling into, and then decided to simply tell everyone to avoid it. He hadn’t even seen the bottom.

Tommy let out a sharp yelp, too, jolted in his grip.

For a moment, Dream still had a grip on the young man’s shirt. Something hot and red and _sticky it was blood Tommy’s blood—_ slipped against his fingers and then that was it. They were both falling, there was no stopping it.

For a split second, Dream managed to tangle his fingers in Tommy’s shirt again. It was all the time he needed.

Dream grabbed Tommy, yanked him close, turned so that if they hit anything then the kid wouldn’t be taking the brunt of it, and held on.

+++

Tommy didn’t really wake up by opening his eyes.

Slowly, slowly, all his feelings came back. Aches and pains rattled their way through his shoulders and spine, working down from his head and heart to the tips of his fingers and toes. Shaking, he sucked in a breath. Something was wrong with his chest, it hurt. Moving hurt.

The second thing he started feeling was something wet and sticky on the side of his head, dripping from his mouth and his nose. There was something hot on his chest and side, too, though he didn’t know what. He could taste…metal? _What’s going on?_ Shivering, he felt his jaw shaking (he didn’t even know that could _happen_ ). _Am I bleeding?_

Then he felt the cold, icy, frost-laced stone under his body. It was cold (duh) and hard (double duh, it was _rock_ ). A thick chill settled over his bones, like someone had wrapped him in a thick woollen blanket. Except instead of wool, it was ice and spikes of it were being driven into his—ow, shivering hurt. Everything hurt. The wind howled in his ears and Tommy slowly, slowly, _slowly_ forced his eyes to open.

He almost screamed.

Dream was lying a few inches from him, head turned to the side and splayed out on the stone with blood pooling around his head almost like a demonic halo. An arrow stuck out of his shoulder, a second in his stomach. _No. No, no, no Dream please don’t be dead please don’t be dead please don’t be—_ gasping, Tommy sucked in a few breaths. “Dream.” The word was carried away by the howling wind. Forcing an arm under him—that _hurt ow, ow, ow—_ Tommy dragged himself over a bit and smacked Dream’s face with a bare hand. “Dream! Come on, please don’t be dead. Please, I’m begging you.”

Everything started to narrow down, sort of. They were going to die here. No, wait, Dream was dead. Tommy was going to die. He was going to die and he had no idea where he was and—

Dream was dead because of him.

He’d gone running off. Of course he had, he was an _idiot_. And Dream had chased after him, because he was admin. And instead of just getting somewhere quiet and snowy where he could cool down and keep from having a panic attack because he did _not like watching Tubbo die like that_ Tommy had led himself _and Dream_ to their deaths! And now they were going to stress—everyone at home was going to be stressed, and it was all Tommy’s fault he was the one who’d run off.

( _Had Dream just coughed?)_

Tommy always did this, he always messed things up. Sure, he was some big name and a lot of people— _millions of people—_ watched what he and the others produced but he was the annoying little _child_ sticking around with everyone. He was the youngest on the server, except for a few of those special episodes where family came on. _They_ were younger than him, except they were never there for long and of course he was the one to mess up he screwed everything up _he screwed everything up he shouldn’t even—_

“Tommy?”

Gasping, Tommy glanced over to see Dream had woken up. His mask had cracked down the middle, one half completely shredded away to reveal a bloody gash above his eyebrow. _You did that you did that you broke his mask he’s going to be furious._ Frowning, Dream looked at him. _He’s glaring at you he’s about to figure out what’s wrong he knows he knows_ —

“I—I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Tommy forced out, shaking. “I’m sorry, this is my fault—”

Dream pulled him into a gentle hug, one arm around his neck.

Shivering, Tommy waited for the screaming to start. He’d heard it before, at home. Before Phil. Before Techno and Wilbur. Before any of the server antics. Of course, his _parents_ had never fought. No, no, they were—he could never even _imagine_ them fighting. It was—other people. Over other things. (Hugs had also not been a common thing, except for the ones where he didn’t want them and he could have done without because haha, he didn’t really like being touched at the time; it’d changed since, because he’d learned not every friend would shove you away one day and then jab you in the stomach in front of everyone because you wouldn’t ask them to stop politely the next.)

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad, I’m worried. Where are you hurt?” Dream asked, letting him go after a moment. Snow drifted down, flecking their hair and shoulders and the blood where Dream had been lying a moment earlier. Oh gosh.

Blood.

“Uh, Dre—Dream, I-I—” Swallowing, Tommy looked at Dream. He must have gone several shades paler, because Dream’s visible eye immediately widened. “I—th—‘nk ‘m gonna…pass out.”

+++

Tommy did, in fact, pass out.

About five seconds after warning Dream, his eyes rolled back and he slumped over so quickly there was _barely_ time to grab him before his head knocked against the stone. Thankfully, Dream had good reflexes. Except when strays were firing arrows, apparently, but he’d been distracted.

_Alright, Dream, time to get to work._ Glancing around, he studied the walls of the ravine. There was a cave a little ways away. _Might have to hack the code, make sure we can both respawn properly. I don’t know how we didn’t die on the way down._ Glancing over the edge of the precipice they’d fallen to, Dream sucked in a sharp breath and leaned away. They’d been close to falling much, much farther. So close, actually, that Dream’s forearm was longer than the space between where his head had been on the rock and the fall.

Turning back to Tommy, he studied the young man’s injuries. There were three arrows in him ( _because of course, the strays targeted the young. Poor kid, but at least he’d be unconscious for a while)_ , two in his shoulder and one in his side. The arrowheads stuck out, none were barbed. They were also keeping the blood in his body, so he hadn’t bled much onto the ground. _Alright, Dream, think. There’s a cave over there…does it feel like it has anything in it?_

Dream was halfway through dragging himself upright to go look when he smacked himself in the forehead. His pick was still banging against his tool belt on his hip. _Oh, this’ll be…somewhat easy, I guess._ Leaning over, he brushed Tommy’s hair back from his forehead, checked his temperature, and then whispered, “stay here, kid, I’ll be back for you in a few.”

He wasn’t sure why he called Tommy “kid”.

As he mined away, clearing just enough space for them to curl up, he turned back and looked to the sky. Some small part of him knew they weren’t likely to make it through the night. Actually, the others were probably waiting for them to respawn or to teleport. _I’ll have to see if I have the energy. At least get him back._ Glancing at the cliff, Dream bent down and mused, _If I throw myself off of it, I’ll probably die on impact. Or damage._ He pulled out a torch, dropped it down the ravine. The light bounced off of a few more ledges, then fell straight until it disappeared into the darkness. _Or maybe I can wait for one of the others to find me._

However morbid it was, as he pulled Tommy into the manmade cave as carefully as possible, he did think about the most efficient way to kill himself. He wasn’t suicidal by any means, he was actually being practical.

Shoving Tommy the furthest from the entrance, setting down a torch, and then blocking them in as best he could (they still needed air, of course, in order to a) not suffocate and b) keep the torch burning), Dream turned to the young man. They were both wet, they’d have to strip off a few layers to keep from burning. _Alright. Let’s get to work again._

His head hurt.

Tommy woke up in the middle of Dream pulling his boots off. Groaning, he jerked his head away and then froze. “’w.”

“Ow?” Dream asked, stiff fingers working through the tied laces. Part of him felt awful. Tommy’s needed presence in the last scene meant he hadn’t been able to wear a jacket, so his shirt was the only thing he’d had and _that_ was currently drying in the corner of the cave.

“Is cold.”

“Stop moving so much. I’ll get you something warm in a second.” Finally getting Tommy’s boot off (at least his _jeans_ weren’t wet, Dream was already _not_ looking forward to dealing with the aftermath of Tommy telling everyone Dream had had to pull his _shirt_ off, let alone his _jeans_ ), Dream threw it to the side and then yanked at his socks. “Sorry.”

“Where?”

“Cave. Dug it.” Leaning over, Dream cupped his hands and blew some hot air onto where Tommy’s foot was starting to turn a bit white. It was frostbite, plain and simple. _Wait. Am I doing this wrong?_ Frowning, Dream touched his aching head. He’d used a strip of cloth to bandage the wound, mostly so Tommy wouldn’t pass out and that he wouldn’t get blood in his eyes while trying to treat him. _I feel like I’m not doing this right._ “We might have to get close. We’re both getting hypothermic.”

“Homies cuddling homies, eh?” Sniffing, Tommy added, “Why are you taking off my socks?”

“Because they are soaking wet and your toes are turning white.”

“But—”

“Tommy if you reference the sock rule it’s not hypothermia or frostbite you’re going to die from.” Tommy shut up at that. Well, actually, Dream glanced over and he’d passed out again. _Damn. What’s it from?_

When Tommy woke up very close to a panic attack, he got his answer.

It wasn’t that Tommy _only_ had panic attacks when he passed out from hypoglycaemia. From Dream and Bad’s guesses, it was because he didn’t have much time to prepare, or because hypoglycaemia already caused anxiety and then passing out just threw him for a loop. Although…he’d been having a panic attack earlier.

Shaking himself, Dream started patting his pockets down for food. He was bound to have _something_ on him, everyone had a protein bar or the like in case Tommy or someone else (usually still Tommy; once or twice it’d been Tubbo and in one very, _very_ rare case Techno had asked Dream for one, but he was pretty sure that was because Tommy was too proud to ask) needed one. _Come on, come_ on _, think._ Glancing around, Dream grabbed his hoodie, found the bar, and turned back to Tommy.

“Okay, okay, hey, Tommy—” The young man glanced at him, still clearly freaking out. “Uh—uh—” Cursing, Dream tried to figure out what he needed to do. He didn’t have any answers. He didn’t even know what he _could_ do. “Uh—can I touch you? Is that okay?” Tommy nodded, and Dream grabbed his hand.

_I really need to figure this kind of thing out._

After a moment, Dream leaned down, hugged Tommy because that seemed to work earlier. It still worked then, at least that time. (Looking back, later, he’d regret that he hadn’t asked. It wasn’t polite, it was _mandatory_ , and he could have made things worse.) On the bright side, it’d help him warm up.

Tommy cried into his shirt for a little while, and Dream tried to figure out whether or not he should actually give Tommy the protein bar because he was probably going into shock and feeding someone who was hypothermic was bad but if his blood sugar was that low—

**TommyInnit starved to death**

**Dream froze to death**

+++

“Dream, sit down _you’re going to hurt yourself!”_

“I don’t care, I’m checking on him!” There was more shouting, stuff about hypothermia and frostbite and walking on frostbitten body parts being something bad. Still floating in the weird in-between of not quite wakefulness but not quite sleeping, Tommy stirred. Just a bit, not very much. Phil’s hand was wrapped around his, wedding band pressing against his knuckle in a comforting, cool pressure. On his other side, he could hear Wilbur and Techno having some sort of quiet conversation. Tubbo had been there, when Tommy stirred before. As far as he could guess, though, Phil had sent him to get some rest. “Hey, Phil. Wilbur. Techno.”

“Dreamy!” Wilbur said in a smiling tone. “Come sit down, come sit down.” Tommy could actually picture him waving. “I heard you got a concussion. How’s that feeling?”

“Better, now.” There was a moment’s pause. A chair slid across the tiled floor of the medbay. “I’m sorry that he died. I didn’t mean for him to.”

“You still went running after him. I’m glad that you were there.” Phil replied, then quietly added, “it’s much nicer to die when someone is there than to die alone.”

“Is that simple wisdom or experience?” Dream asked, a self-deprecating lilt to his voice. Uncomfortable, Tommy shifted his shoulder. Something was rubbing against his neck, which was aching anyways because of the way his head was. Then there was the oxygen mask. “Hey, Toms. You awake in there?”

A hand slipped into his, and Tommy squeezed it once, then slipped back into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in about an hour or so. Originally, there was going to be another fic in the Pogverse (that's my nickname for it), but my family's been travelling (our presence was demanded; I was not given a choice to stay and I'm kind of happy because the last time I was left alone for some time with no one but my dog for company was the time I based the first Pogverse fic off of) and I'm tired. On top of that, this next fic is going to be pretty taxing.  
> Anyways, I decided to just kill them instead of going through with the rescue because *my* blood sugar is dropping and I swore to myself I wouldn’t eat until I’d finished this. On the bright side, I ate pretty late because of reasons, so all I have is cinnamon applesauce, pretzels, some cashews, and a whole *can* of cashews because I got those for Christmas (and some art markers, so…I might start doing some MCYT art with those because I need the practice and my grandma said “if you like those and you use them all up I’ll get you refills” and there are *so—many—colours!*). Also, some notes:  
> -all medical stuff in this may be inaccurate. For instance, I don’t know if someone who is hypoglycaemic and hypothermic should eat something. Feel free to educate me if you know, I got this from webmd and they had no additional notes  
> -Tommy and Dream’s deaths are listed the way they were because Tommy died of low blood sugar (because that can happen) as well as hypothermia, and Dream died from hypothermia. Blood loss also played a factor  
> -If someone you know is having a panic attack, *please* ask to touch them first. The amount of times I’ve been having a panic attack and someone’s touched me, or even *moved* to, and made it worse as a result is more than I can count on one hand.  
> Anyways, I hope you had a lovely Christmas. Thank you for reading, I hope you have a lovely day, and I hope to see you in the next one! Y’all are loved and appreciated and awesome and amazing!


End file.
